The Art and Sounds of War
by Travis Church
Summary: Haley "Hiccup" Haddock thought sixth period art class couldn't get any worse. The teacher was awful, he wasn't very good at art, and he'd rather be at home or doing something less painful. But one day he gets a certain boy's drawing and it sparks a strange back and forth between them. They communicate through their drawings until it snowballs into a fated and rather frantic meeting


**These characters do not belong to me but rather their respective company, ****_Dreamworks_**

**Rated M for language and violence**

* * *

Hiccup was never good at drawing. He was _okay_ but never great. His penmanship was clunky at best, his lines were simultaneously thick and thin, and his proportions were always slightly off but he enjoyed drawing nonetheless. It was challenging and somehow provocative. It pushed him to think outside the box and at times break said box and fold it into a swan.

But he hated his art class. It was so freeform, so abstract, so..._vague_. He liked being creative but it felt so weird getting random assignments from his teacher and never really knowing what to draw.

"I want you to show me how it feels to take a shower but don't use a shower, water, or fire," the voice of his art teacher echoed inside his skull. Her smooth and dulcet tones were like silk hiding the sharp and snide remarks that he swore she would toss at his assignments.

"Hah!" he mimicked her bubbly giggle and morphed it into a pointed scoff. "This composition is too descriptive, I wanted something more expressive. B minus. No! C plus."

Hiccup sighed as he walked towards his house. The little two story home on Hamlet Drive stood silently upon the sleepy street he called home. Most of the trees were barren but a few leaves clung on for dear life. As he turned his house key he scolded himself and said, for what might've been the eighteenth time this semester, "I should've dropped out of that class when I had the chance."

* * *

Hiccup was the last person to walk into his art class the next day.

"Hailey," the teacher put her hands on her hips, "you've been very tardy lately."

He pursed his lips and tried not to correct her. "It's Haley not Hailey," he would often say but it seemed that it would faze right through her before she would return going about her business. He stopped bothering with her and ignored her as best as he could.

He took his seat as the teacher talked a little bit about today's assignment. Something about perception and color and harmony and was she talking about New Age spirituality again? Oh Gods if she started talking about the Chakras and being vegan...

"So let's get started class!" She walked behind her desk and pulled out a CD of generic ocean sounds. Some say that the ocean helps people relax but for Hiccup, it only brought about memories of his father bringing home piles of smelly cod from Gobber's fish stand.

He got of out his seat and trudged to his cubby hole where he stashed his sketchpad. Unlike the other students, who foolishly but regularly hid their contraband substances in said cubbies, he kept only his sketchpad. Many of the pages were torn out or hastily ripped because he didn't like the design or he thought it didn't fit the goal of the assignment...or what he thought it may have been. As he reached in his hand felt something odd, like a crumpled piece of paper in the cubby hole, and fished it out.

Ah. Another student's work was accidentally filed into his cubby hole. What could this be?

Hiccup was amazed at the composition, the subject matter, and its sheer elegance in its simplicity. It was fully colored, the shading was absolutely organic, and the palette...Gods this person turned a single shade of brown into a brilliant rainbow of browns. He was touched, no he was moved by the piece. He was glad that he could gaze briefly at...

"Is that Dickbutt?" Tuffnut asked behind Hiccup.

"Yes," Hiccup said happily, "it is indeed Dickbutt."

"Man, I wish I thought of doing that for last week's assignment instead of my drawing of an eight armed commando standing behind of an explosion."

"So creative," Hiccup rolled his eyes as he searched for the name so he could hand the doodle back to its rightful owner. But he had to think of some way to thank the original artist for making such a beautiful portrait.

His eyes widened as a brilliant idea came onto him. It was so clear and vivid that he could practically taste it on the tip of his tongue!

"Tuffnut," Hiccup grabbed the lanky blond's wrist and tugged him so he stood in front of him. "Stand here and think about Cesium reacting with water."  
The boy frowned for a moment before giggling quietly to himself. Hook, line, and sinker.

As soon as the art teacher turned her back on the class to work on her own version of the assignment, Hiccup pulled out his phone and searched high and low for a very special picture of a very special Shiba Inu. The teacher deplored technology despite taking time to take photos and (probably) post them onto Instagram during class. She thought it was a distraction whereas Hiccup clearly thought otherwise.

His fingers slid and tapped furiously against the cracked screen in hot pursuit of the infamous image. "Gotcha," Hiccup muffled his cheers to avoid tipping off the teacher. "Thanks Tuffnut!" he said before zipping off to his desk, phone and Dickbutt in hand.

He grabbed a scrap piece of paper out of his messy bag and shoved the same scrap back in as soon as he realized it was his calculus notes. He tried again and found a clean sheet of binder paper, although a little stained on the edge from a water bottle spill.

He spent the entire class period getting the lines and curvature of the dog's face right. It had to be perfect, anything less would be an insult to the original artist. His eyes darted back and forth between his phone and his paper. He made sure to take in every curve and line of the image and size it proportionally. He thought of doing a bit of shading but that idea fell flat on its face as soon as he realized he had only 5 minutes of class left.

"Perfect," he said as the bell rang over his voice.

"Wow," the student next to Hiccup said in a bored voice. "Such art, amazing."

Hiccup could only laugh before going to the student's cubby, the same one who gifted him the piece that inspired him today. He filed the Dickbutt and the Shibe into the little box and walked out of the class with a smile on his face, one that exposed his crooked teeth to the world. A feat considering he hated showing his teeth at all.

* * *

"Fishlegs," Hiccup started to pack up a little early. "I gotta head out."

"But we're not done with the calc homework!" the boy complained. "I still can't figure out the limit of x when it approaches the maximum!"

"Sorry," the boy shrugged. "I told you everything I know."

"Wait a sec," Fishleg's voice dropped as he cast an inquisitive glance. "Why are you leaving so early when you have art next period?"

"I uhh," he looked around the cafeteria as if the answer would suddenly appear amongst one of the tables. "I slacked off yesterday on a project and I'd like to get that done today." Hiccup tried not to sound too unsure of his answer.

Frederick Ingerson was a smart guy, don't get that wrong, it just happened that he was smart in some spots and dim in a few others. He had an incredible memory, something that aided him throughout school when it came to history quizzes and multiple choice exams, but his social perceptiveness was left to be desired. When it came to parties and sniffing out bullshit, he was like a fish out of water.

Fishlegs pursed his lips, humming a seemingly analytic note that had a dull, hollow undertone. "Well I'll talk to you later," Fishlegs waved Hiccup off before going back to the differential equation that remained incomplete. He scribbled a few numbers into the margin, muttered for a bit, and then scratched them all out in disappointment.

The brown haired boy sighed internally, triumphant in his deceptive skills. He thanked the Gods that his portly friend did not remember a minuscule detail or some off hand comment that would easily blast holes through his flimsy lie.

Walking out of the noisy cafeteria, Hiccup crumpled up his crumb filled sandwich bag and tossed it to a nearby trashcan. Idle chatter about the upcoming football game and the annual Winter Festival were abuzz. People happily squawked about who was going to win this Friday or what they were going to wear to the dance. All of this talk made Hiccup glad that he, unlike his father, was not obligated to attend such things.

But Fishlegs's comment stuck out to him as he walked through the empty school halls. He really didn't want to go to art class for the same reason he hated going to the dentist's office. It was painful and drawn out and waiting for it all to end was pure torture. And like the dentist's, it was nothing but pure agony sitting in that class for an hour or two and scribbling, dabbing, or pasting away without purpose or joy.

But the tables have turned lately. The little reply he drafted for the other boy made him giggle. Oh he wished he could see his face when he saw what he left in his cubby. There was also the assignment he completely neglected yesterday in favor of drawing a meme by hand but that seemed of less import.

He opened the art studio and peeked inside. No one was there. Perfect.

He zipped to the cubicles in the back of the room and searched for his box. Gavin. Habib. Ah! Haley! He stuck his hand into the little box and rifled through, hoping he'd find...

Nothing.

All he pulled out of his cubby was his worn out sketchbook. Water stained at the edges and corners were ripped here and there, it was the subpar treasure Hiccup was expecting. The boy sighed and processed an infinity of scenarios. Maybe he was entertained by his response and took it as a sign to not do it again, maybe he never saw it because he was absent, or maybe he shrugged it off and tossed it away. He was disappointed to say the least.

He sulked to his desk, crappy sketches in one hand and backpack in the other, suddenly tired and drained. He could really use a nap or maybe he could just ditch class. All good ideas but that didn't change the fact that he still needed to make up for yesterday's lost work. Maybe he could just draw a circuit oh wait he drew that last time. Dang.

Hiccup tossed his sketchbook onto his desk and slumped right into the chair. His shoulders sagged back and his eyelids were suddenly very heavy. No one was around, the room was dark, and everything was quiet. Maybe he could get a few minutes of rest, a short cat nap would be nice.

The boy crossed his arms and laid them onto the desktop and lay his head there. His lanky limbs usually made for mediocre cushions but at this very moment they felt like a pillow stuffed with the softest feathers. He smacked his lips, mouth dry as summer air, and let his eyes float down.

An angry red color scraped against his eyelids and he awoke in horror. Oh God, he was in no mood or position to deal with his art teacher right now or the lecture she had prepackaged for sleeping students like him. His arms flew in all directions, as if a thousand volts seared through his body and animated him in all the worst ways possible.

"You look like a wreck," a girl chided from the doorway.

Hiccup squeezed his eyes as if that would help him adjust through the pain. "Nice to see you too Astrid." The blonde turned off the light and waited until she could see the whites of Hiccup's eyes before turning them back on again. "Aggh, why would you do that?" he groaned as fluorescent light scratched his retinas.

"Why are you here so early?"

"Why are you here at all?" he shot back.

Astrid tossed a black rectangle and heard it thunk against Hiccup's chest and bounce into his lap. "You left your calculator with Fishlegs."

"Thanks," he coughed as cradled the TI-89 with his hands.

"Just doin my job," she admitted. "You dropped your art," she pointed at a fallen sketchbook underneath the adjacent desk. Hiccup leaned to the side, one hand against the sore part of his chest, and outstretched the other. He was hoping to snag the sketches but his arms were much too short for any use. Astrid rolled her eyes, "Here, I'll help you."

"Thanks," Hiccup eyed her as she picked up the book. He held out his hand but she blinked a bit, feigning confusion. "Again," he added.

She smiled gleefully and handed the boy his sketchbook. Hiccup rolled his eyes, completing the transaction with his standard seal of approval. "I thought you hated art?"

"I hate art _class_," he elaborated.

"So why here so early?"

"I forgot to work on my project yesterday so here I am!" he threw his arms up in exasperation.

"Were you playing Pokemon? I thought your teacher confiscated that from you last week..."

"I got it back but no. I was working on something else."

"You mean the sad man drawing?"

"What?" Hiccup raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah, I saw a page of a man sitting on a bench and I assumed it was for class."

"I didn't," his voice trailed off before he started to thumb through the book. He breezed past pages of calculus nestled amongst stick figures and scribbles juxtaposed against failed attempts of drawing something related to class.

There, towards the end of the book, was a single page of a lone man sitting on a park bench with a sandwich in hand and pigeons crowded around him. Hiccup wasn't sure what the drawing was or what it was supposed to be but he had this sinking feeling like he's seen it somewhere.

He pulled out his phone and searched for "sad man sitting on a bench." The first few results were useless stock photos of strange, balding, middle aged men and the occasional motivation poster. Seconds passed as he pushed past pictures of useless, tangental images. But it seemed as if he hit a brick wall until he stumbled upon...the same exact picture!

"Keanu is sad?" Astrid asked suspiciously.

"Oh he's good," the boy muttered.

"Yeah, that's really good uhh posture?"

"How can I get back at him?" he plotted.

"I like the hands. They're umm very detailed."

"I know!" Hiccup tore out a page of his sketchpad and rifled through his backpack for a pencil. "I'm going to draw dogs!"

"Alright I'll admit it," she put her hands on her hips. "I'm completely lost here."

"Do you know that 'There There' meme?"

Astrid briefly thought of saying no but to keep the conversation going she nodded her head in affirmation.

"We'll I'm going to draw the version of one wolf petting the other wolf."

"Can you even draw wolves? I mean you can barely draw a person."

"Well I'm going to try! I've drawn Toothless before."

"Toothless is a cat," she reminded him.

"Cats and dogs are practically the same thing!" he argued (poorly).

Before Astrid could chastise him for being so stupid, in the nicest way of course, the bell rang. "Well have fun doing your art homework."

Hiccup could only hum something that sounded vaguely like a yes but there was that sarcastic inflection that always shaped his words into something else when he muttered. He failed to hear the footsteps and the door click shut behind her.

His focus on making a wolf was intense. Wait what did wolves look like? They were like cats right? No that's dumb. Well they have four legs and a tail and paws but was that really it? Oh Gods, this was going to be much harder than he ever expected.

"Well I guess wolves can be kinda chubby," he mumbled to console himself. The belly seemed a bit rotund and the face was a little too ovular but the recipient should get the picture.

That was the other thing that Hiccup gave little thought about. Who exactly was this person he was spending so much time on? He knew his name was Jack O., as sated by the signature at the bottom of yesterday's picture and today's, but that was pretty much it. Small school, tiny town, school yard politics and what not. He would've heard something, anything really, about this kid and yet...

But then again, Hiccup wasn't exactly the most active or most participatory. He had his little trio consisting of himself, Fishlegs, and Astrid but that was pretty much it. He wasn't very good at sports, much to his father's unsurprising disappointment, and he stayed far far _far_ away from anything related to a club. Considering the incident with the robotics club last year, it's probably for the best that he stay out of clubs in general. Even the principal seemed to agree!

A noisy prater preceded the oncoming stampede of the sixth period art class. People marched in ecstatically, some talking about where they were going to purchase dresses and others taking bets on how many men Snoutlout would trample over.

Hiccup eyed them in absolute confusion. How could they be excited about _art_? Specifically art class? He swallowed his growing misery and continued sketching a wolf-cat-bear thing. He barely finished the Shibe Inu, could he possibly finish a picture of two wolves in the same amount of time?

"Class," the art teacher sauntered in and tossed her purse onto the desk, "don't forget that your project is due this Friday. I think I'm going to see some real gems!"

Hiccup's eyebrows shot up as soon as he realized that he had done absolutely nothing these past few days.

"And I'll be coming around to give you a few pointers," she said in the sweetest voice that she could possibly muster.

If there was an award for highest eyebrows, Hiccup's would've certainly been in the running. Not only did he have absolutely nothing, he had to show his teacher the absolute nothingness that he's been working on for the past week.

If she came to his desk.

If.

Hiccup waved to Tuffnut as he walked into the classroom, backpack slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes or something that would've been of greater value to him than books. He stared at the freckled boy for a few seconds, gazing upon him in infinite confusion, standing in place as he tried to comprehend the complete nothingness that tried to catch his attention with its futile and incessant movements.

"Umm," the art teacher put her hand on the blond's shoulder. "Are you alright?" She paused for a moment unsure if this was Theodore or Rebecca Thorson. It was so hard remembering who was who especially when they looked, talked, and emoted exactly like one another. Typically she would wait for one of them to speak but...

Tuffnut turned his head slowly, mouth agape, breath hot and sticky, eyes wide and vacant. There was not a creature alive that could match his ferocity and malevolence.

"You should sit down," she patted him on the back cautiously as if she knew that she could easily disturb the balance that kept peace in the world and chaos at bay. "We're going to start class in a bit." The boy could only nod and dragged his feet to a desk next to a very special freckled boy.

Hiccup wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, Tuffnut was extremely unpredictable in this state but on the other he needed Tuffnut's help. He could have his arm snapped off or he could get...his arm snapped off. But then again, he really needed a distraction. There really wasn't much choice he had in the matter.

"I knew you well, my good friend," he said wistfully to his right arm. "At least it's not the arm I use the most," Hiccup mused.

He poked Tuffnut with his finger and whispered, "Hey, Tuffnut. You in there?"

The boy shook him self out of his self imposed daze causing long blond hairs to whip around his body. "Yeah what's up?" in a perky voice.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something about his vacancy, but decided not to do that. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Is it one of 'those favors?'" he said while making air quotes. For a moment, Hiccup was concerned if Tuffnut would assist him. The last time he asked for one of "those favors" was also the same time a disco ball exploded into a million pieces during prom and almost, but not quite, impaled several students with mirror shrapnel. "Because if it is, count me in!" he whooped.

Hiccup reclined into his seat, relief washing over him. "Alright, here's the plan."

"Never really one for plans but that's okay."

"When Ms. Hadsi comes around, I want you to distract her as long as possible."

Tuffnut nodded his head as if he were waiting Hiccup to continue.

"So yeah," he smacked his lips.

Tuffnut continued nodding.

"That's it."

"You know," he crossed his arms, "this doesn't sound much like a plan at all. Definitely not top ten material if I may say so myself."

"So you're going to help me?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "Why not?"

"Now remember, just keep Ms. Hadsi occupied. That's all you have to do."

"Gotcha."

Hiccup continued to work on his drawing for a moment and looked up. Tuffnut was picking something out of his teeth with a pencil while the art teacher was slowly approaching their desks, stopping along the way to give students a bit of instruction.

"Uhh, Tuffnut?" Hiccup asked.

"Yeah what?" he responded as he picked out today's lunch meat that hid in between his front teeth.

"Shouldn't you be...sticking with the plan?"

"What plan?"

"You know, the plan we just talked about?"

Tuffnut lost his grip on the pencil and it flung forward and hit the back of Suzy Parkins's head.

Suzy turned around and glared right at Tuffnut who was now whistling an innocent tune. "Ms. Hadsi!" the redheaded girl stood up and shouted at the top of her lungs. "One of the twins hit me!"

The art teacher stopped her work with one of the other students and scratched her head. "Rebec...Theodore?" she probed. Tuffnut pointed to himself. "Yes! Theodore!" a little victory was had by Ms. Hadsi today. "Theodore, come up here right now and apologize to Suzy."

Tuffnut pointed at himself again.

"Yes you," she tapped her foot impatiently.

Tuffnut pointed at Suzy this time.

"Yes, Suzy."

Despite his looks, Tuffnut was actually very brilliant. Hiccup learned this first hand when he was on a rush and had to get some answers out of Tuffnut for their homework last year and he now knew it was a valuable weapon against the forces of productivity and efficiency. He could only imagine what it was like to deal with both Ruffnut and Tuffnut at the same time (in a situation where he wasn't being pummeled by Snoutlout and the twins at the same time).

He drowned out the back and forth between Tuffnut and the art teacher, which on its surface seemed more like a someone pouring water down a drain rather than a tennis match between two champions. He was starting to enjoy the shape and contour of the wolves and he only had to redo the eyes five times! It was a great improvement from his yesterday's art attempt if he said so himself.

"Now Theodore," Ms. Hadsi scolded. "Apologize to Suzy right now or else I'll have to give you after school detention.

"Well," he stretched out the word. "When you put it like that. I'm sorry Suzy," he put his hands up in surrender.

"Sorry you're such an ugly cow!" some boy in the back corner of the room shouted.

"Gerald!" Ms. Hadsi cried out in shock. "How could you say that! Come up here right now, I'm going to call your parents!"

Tuffnut turned around and gave Gerald a thumbs up as Hiccup remained in shock of how Tuffnut masterminded such a maneuver. He had Ms. Hadsi eating out of the palms of his hands, he was clearly an amazing tactician.

Although in reality, it was by chance that Gerald insulted her...but then again she was a huge brat and a stuck-up cow faced brown-noser so technically she had it coming.

Hiccup continued drawing while Ms. Hadsi angrily punched in a variety of phone numbers to contact Gerald's parents, which undoubtably failed. Everything seemed like it was going smoothly. The snout was in the right place, the paw looked like...a paw, and the numerous crisscrosses and scratches looked somewhat like fur. Now all that was left was the lettering.

Hiccup would go into episodes where he was completely and utterly absorbed in what he was working on. Sometimes it would be a rather complicated and tricky homework problem, other times it would be repairing things that his cat would knock over in the house, and rarely art. But this was a challenge, something to push him, something to make him think outside the box, something to stretch his skills in a direction he wasn't familiar with. He wasn't one for competitions, he just liked...doing hard stuff...yeah.

"Now Theodore, what have you been working on?"

Ms. Hadsi's voice caught Hiccup completely and utterly off guard. His head skyrocketed up, back in perfect posture, and was left completely breathless. How did she get so close? Wasn't she dealing with Gerald and a teary eyed Suzy? Oh Gods, she's right next to him. If Tuffnut didn't figure something out quickly, Hiccup would be dead.

"Well," Tuffnut started, "I don't have anything-"

Cue the funeral march.

"Too special," he continued as he pulled something out of his backpack. He proudly showed his drawing which to Hiccup's eyes looked like scribbles with mustard smeared all over the page.

Ms. Hadsi leaned in, dreamcatcher earrings dangling from her rather tiny ears, and inspected the drawing for its legitimacy. She held it up to the light in her dainty, bronze hands, flipped it over, and hummed in thought. "Tell me about your art piece."

"Well," Tuffnut began. "I really like the lines and how they cross."

"Yes, I can tell, do they have any significance?" she asked thoughtfully.

Hiccup had a few minutes before she realized that this was an accident from lunch. Tuffnut wasn't blessed with the keenest sense of charisma so, unlike the rest of the students who easily BS'ed their way through Ms. Hadsi's inquiries, she would easily catch him in his ruse.

His hand shook with anxiousness and his lines were now worse than they've ever been. He looked up at the clock and realized he had two minutes. Two very fragile minutes to make this picture as perfect as possible. Hopefully the sweat on his palms and fingers didn't smudge the freshly scrawled graphite.

The bell rang as Hiccup put the final touch on his drawing. He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked down at the image he drew. Two mediocrely drawn wolves with fairly legible letters that proclaimed, "There there." A masterpiece.

Before Ms. Hadsi could even speak, Hiccup was out of his seat and searching for Jack O's cubby. He really didn't want to be in this classroom any longer than he had to and would like to rest his cramped hand.

"Oh Hailey!" Ms. Hadsi shouted before Hiccup could stuff his things into his backpack. "I'm really sorry I couldn't get to you today but I'm free to see what you've been working on right now."

"Uhh, I have to be," Hiccup hated thinking on the fly. "I have to go tutor someone in calc, uhh right now!"

"But I remember you said that you tutored people during lunch?" she asked confusedly.

"I um had to reschedule. Yeah!" he said more assured in himself. "I had to reschedule and I really shouldn't keep him waiting. Bye!"

Hiccup closed the door behind him and it slammed shut. He felt a little bad about rudely ending that conversation Ms. Hadsi like that but he honestly had other things that didn't involve art and art class like...going home and making a nice snack. Yeah.

He pulled out his phone and yelped. A shock bristled through his fingers and sent a sharp surge of pain throughout his hand. He looked around and saw students filing out of class, some a little more excited than others.

The clicks and bangs of lockers grew louder and louder as he raced out of the crowded school hallways. He weaved in and out of packs of Axe scented boys and blabbering girls, apologizing for disrupting their incredibly important conversations. The metallic noises grew louder and louder to the point where it was nearly deafening.

He shoved himself through a few people hanging around the front doors of the high school and raced home. His backpack bobbed up and down with each lunge of his lanky legs and his breath grew shorter and shorter. The noise grew distant and faded slowly behind him.  
Where was he?

The park. A large open green where a few mothers and their children/dogs played. A place of silence and emptiness. A place where the grass died in some patches and flourished in others. A place for him and his thoughts.  
Hiccup gulped for air and limped towards water fountain. He hoped he didn't bruise himself against his prosthetic.

Cold water tugged against his teeth and his lips curled in brief pain.

He really needed that snack.

* * *

On the other hand, Ms. Hadsi had no time for snacks. She had to speak to Suzy's mother about today's incident, pass along Gerald's punishment to the Vice Principal, clean up the spilled paints from third period, and somehow make it to palates in the next thirty minutes. Considering that there were students still being picked up and driving off to do who knows what, there was little time to spare.

"Where are my keys?" she said frustratedly, opening every one of her drawers. She hoped she'd find them laying amongst her detention slips, spare chalk, or other school supplies. Huffing, she slammed the last of the drawers and clenched as the clang of metal against metal resonated throughout the room. She really did not have time for this, the Vice Principal was sure to call her any moment and she wanted to iron out this whole mess as soon as possible.

Ms. Hadsi's ears were still trying to adjust to the complete silence of her empty art room. The chatter outside her classroom was a babbling brook in comparison to the thunder clap she made with her own hands.

She was reminded of Hailey's outburst, his rush to escape, and his abrupt and quite reckless act to close the door behind him. She was sure that he had to be on his way but there was something fishy about his excuse. She was fairly certain that he saw him working with that rotund boy he always tutored all the time in the cafeteria, in fact she was certain that there was only one other person in the world who would _willingly_ be seen with Hailey. But it was not her place to pry into the individual lives of her students no matter how juicy the details may possibly be.

"Oh Hailey, going out on a date?" Ms. Hadsi mused. "Impossible! The Earth would freeze over and my teeth would rot and fall out before that would happen!"

She laughed as she pictured Hailey whispering sweet somethings to a certain girl who punched him all too often. Although she did have a certain _je ne sais quoi_ that made the pairing a little more reasonable than other matches. The way Hailey would whine as she punched his arm then scoot over to make room for her, welcoming her into his personal (intimate) space, why it could be nothing more than romance but nothing less than platonic.

She pursed her lips together and looked one more time in her top drawer. Perhaps she overlooked something amongst the scraps of paper and mounds of paperclips.

She sighed once as she heard footsteps in her classroom, "Sorry Mrs. Parkins, I'll be right out there I'm just looking for my keys." She muttered a "yes!" underneath her breath when she found her keys nestled amidst the bag of granola she was saving for a rainy day. "Now, Mrs. Parkins I just want to say..."

Her eyes widened for a brief moment and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.

Purple.

Darkness.

Ms. Hadsi pried her eyes open and realized she was lying down in the nurse's office and a bitter sting clawed into her skull.

"Be careful Ann," the nurse said as she held out a cup of water. "You had a nasty fall out there. You should be lucky Mr. Vaughn went out to check up on you." Ms. Hadsi took the cup of water and experimentally pressed her hand against the chill that pushed against her head. It was damp and very cold.

"Don't fidget with the ice pack dearie," the nurse scolded her. "You got a nasty bruise up there and we don't want you to mess with it."

The nurse had such a wonderful accent, Ms. Hadsi thought to herself. She sounded a little British, a little Irish, and a little French all at the same time. Perhaps it was something she picked up while living abroad for a few years.

"I called for a cab and you can leave your car overnight, I asked Mr. Vaughn for you," she said triumphantly.

"Oh it's fine," she waved her off. "I can drive."

"You really shouldn't, I paid for it and everything. You wouldn't want to put an old lady's money to waste now would you?" she half scolded.

Ms. Hadsi sighed and gently pushed herself up off of the bed. It was three eighteen and for the first time ever, she missed her palates class. It was depressing.

"Take this," the nurse said as she handed a few aspirin pills. The round white knobs looked like candies to Ms. Hadsi's shaky mind.

"Thank you," she said as she swallowed the pills dry. She gave the ice pack in exchange and reached for her oversized purse by the bedside.

"If you need to call in a substitute, just let Mr. Vaughn know alright dearie?"

"Yes, of course." Perhaps she would call in a substitute because the bruise on her head suddenly grew a thousand times in weight and made her legs wobble. She thanked the stars for her foresight this morning, choosing flats over something as ostentatious as heels; why she had the wisdom of the Oracles of Delphi.  
The walk to the taxi was long and fraught with hardship but she made it.

"Where to ma'am?" the driver's gruff voice stood above the 80's power ballads that played from the half functioning car radio.

She winced as a male voice screamed high above the guitar riffs and the speakers hissed with white noise. "Twelve-twenty four Mason Street." The man shifted the car into gear and pushed the aging cab forward. Ms. Hadsi bit her lip for a moment and asked cautiously, "Could you possibly turn down the radio? I have a headache and-"

The man's scarred fingers pressed against a weathered knob and the taxi went silent.

Ms. Hadsi breathed out in relief. She couldn't wait to take a bath and clear her mind of the strange oppressive feeling that rested against her head. All she wanted to do was sleep and hopefully dream of something that would help pass this odd feeling she had in her gut.

* * *

"Hiccup?" A burly voice shook the brunette out of his concentration. He was working on a particularly nasty problem, listing the first five intersections of a sine wave with an integral on a two dimensional plane, when his father's voice broke his focus.

"I'm in my room!" he shouted. There was no point of trying to remain silent, all he would do is delay the inevitable which was his father knocking on his door and a few minutes of awkward silence as they skirted around each other's days.

Steven Stoick Haddock pushed the barely open door with his large meaty paw and bowed slightly to avoid slamming his forehead into the doorway. He was very tall and very heavy but then again, what was to be expected of a foreman? His footsteps thundered in the tiny room, shaking Hiccup's bookshelf and rattling the action figures precariously perched atop it.

"What is it dad?" he asked as he turned off his calculator.

"I'll be headed out to the forest tonight."

Hiccup resisted the urge to ask if he could join him. He loved playing in those woods and, even if it was work related, he could take the chance to just be in nature and watch the stars or follow the creeks like he used to as a boy. But unfortunately his father refused to budge when it came to taking Hiccup along. "Too dangerous" he would often say in a vaguely threatening, constantly reminding, but still parental tone.

"When will you be back?" Hiccup asked instead.

"Tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, Friday morning at the latest."

Right. Today was Wednesday. "That's a short trip," he offered.

"That's what we're hoping," Stoick wished. "I left a bit of money on the counter if you want pizza. And Hiccup," he paused and looked the boy in his eyes, "don't touch the stove."

"That was one time!" he complained.

Stoick rolled his eyes and carefully treaded out of Hiccup's room.

Gods, you set fire to a pan _one_ time and no one trusts you with fire ever again. Just because you were a little too liberal with the cooking time and were a little too liberal with the oil; why this was oppression!

Although oppression did come with its perks like free money for pizza/takeout. He could get used to being oppressed if it meant he had free reign to get whatever he wanted for dinner.

As soon as Stoick's thundering footsteps were nothing more than a feint memory he walked out of his room for the first time in six hours and began his search for the money his father left for him. And there, tacked onto the refrigerator door with a magnet, was a crumpled twenty dollar bill. Hiccup gingerly held it in his hands and thanked the Gods for a twenty because it meant that he could get a medium pizza with extra toppings.

Although, he held back his praise for he knew that the Gods have sent this gift in exchange for his father's blood.

He tried to push away the grim thought for the prospects of much lighter news. Did he want a combo pizza with prosciutto and mozzarella or did he want a Hawaiian with basil and salami? Or! Did he actually want takeout? He hadn't had Chinese food in a while and boy did chow mein, roasted duck, and California rolls sound good right now.

All of his choices sounded exceptionally indulgent but incredibly greasy. Maybe he could order a few breadsticks but wait bread equaled carbs and carbs make you fat. Ok maybe no breadsticks. Maybe a salad? Yeah a salad would be great but neither places offered salads which still meant he was stuck with a greasy plate of MSG and fat.

Rarely did Hiccup leave his life to fate but sometimes he just had to close his eyes and do a thing. He reached for a bowl of stray change on a nearby counter and fished out a quarter.

"Heads pizza, tails Chinese," he declared. He tossed the coin, barely caught it with his left hand, and slapped it onto his wrist. The metal made contact with his bony wrist and shivered as it sent feint shockwaves of pain throughout his arm. He peeled his hand off of the now warm quarter, as if gazing upon it would reveal a trap, and peeked inside.

Tails.

Hiccup put the quarter back into the never used ashtray that spare change now called home and dialed a number he knew by heart now.

"Hi," he cleared his throat, "hi," he said more confidently and in a lower voice. "Can I get one order of chow mein, one order of roasted duck, and oh you don't have roasted duck. Uhh," his voice trembled as he tried to think on the fly. "Well that's alright do you still have sho pao? Because I really like your sho pao, much better than Golden Empress's not to speak badly of them but I, ok you do!" Hiccup sighed in relief, glad that the server cut him off before he could say anything else. "Yes then I'll have the chow mein, three loaves of sho pao, and one California roll. Twenty three Hamlet Drive. Alright, thirty minutes? Perfect. Thank you very much."

Hiccup put the phone back into its cradle and let his shoulders slump back. That was just as difficult as he expected it to be. He needed eighteen dollars and eighty cents and the tip came out to just a bit over twenty dollars. He scooped up a random amount of change with his hand and pocketed it with the twenty Stoick left behind.

But what was he going to do for the next thirty minutes? Homework was obviously out of the question, that calc homework was a little too hard to be entertaining while he was hungry, and Pokemon didn't feel right at the moment.

He wandered to the living room and flicked the TV on, maybe he could waste half an hour that way. He flipped through the channels, ignoring the cooking shows, the fake history shows, the pop science shows, and (for once) the cartoons.

"And our next story, mystery murder remains unsolved."

Hiccup wasn't one for the news but there was something that kept him glued to the screen. Maybe it was the whispers around school or the grimace that Stoick hid underneath his bushy mustache that intrigued him.

"Yellow police tape continues to quarantine a trailer off of Sentry Road by Berk National Forest as the investigation enters week two. Police have yet to declare a suspect but police chief North remains vigilant and says that they're keeping an eye out for any clues." The reporter's voice was calm considering the gruesome details of the murder. Middle aged man, ripped to shreds in his own trailer, sometime around noon; absolutely horrific!

Hiccup could only imagine what his father was thinking about this whole thing.

"And up next, how to unfreeze your water pipes. We'll have more details after the break."

Hiccup reached for the remote and switched channels. He wasn't exactly in the mood for informercials about how to regrow hair on a balding head or commercials about new real estate potential in the tristate area.

He settled on a show about mythical creatures and reclined into his seat. This was an infinite source of entertainment since these so called experts easily got their "assumptions" wrong. Hiccup knew better than them.

Time passed at a mind achingly slow pace. Waves of professors in unqualified positions such as evolutionary biology and aerospace engineering were shown to talk about what sorts of requirements dragons would need to exist. Where were the history professors? They were the only ones qualified to talk about dragons, not these _scientists_.

Before he could get himself all worked up, a doorbell rang throughout the dimly lit house. The delivery person must've been so confused why they were sent to an empty house but it wasn't his fault Stoick believed in saving electricity and turning off every last lamp and light. He patted his pockets for the cash, just double checking for security. He didn't want to look like a complete fool in front of another stranger if he could help it.

He peeked through the little peep hole and spotted a boy, perhaps his age probably a little older though, looking down at his phone while holding a plastic bag with a few boxes in it. He could clearly see the restaurant's logo on the boy's shirt and it wasn't hard to put two and two together.

Hiccup took a deep breath, calmed down a bit, and readied himself. "Don't do anything weird," he said to himself. "Just give the money and thank him. The end." The auburn haired boy puffed out his chest, unlocked the door and swung it open, albeit a little too quickly. "Hi! Hi," he coughed, "hey."

The delivery boy looked up from his phone, "Chow mein, sho pao, and a Cali roll?"

"Yeah! Yeah, that's uhh. Yeah that's me." Good job Hiccup, doing a great job at being normal. His chest deflated at the same rate of his confidence.

"That'll be eighteen seventy one," the boy said cautiously.

Hiccup fished out the twenty from his pocket and held it out. The boy's hand made brief contact with his and Hiccup felt something claw up his arm. A cold, wet feeling snaked around his throat and dug itself into his Adam's Apple. His eyes grew wide as the foreign feeling floated out of his mouth in a long breath. He tried to push away the feeling as the delivery boy dug for change in his own pockets. Hiccup's hands tightened around the doorknob, the metal warming up to his soft hands with every squeeze.

"Here you go," the boy held out Hiccup's change and the moist plastic bag with his food.

"Oh uhh keep it. That's your tip," he said anxiously before taking the food away from the delivery boy. He nearly forgot about the change in his pocket but quickly grabbed the handful and handed it to him.

"Thanks," the boy said without a smile. "Have a good night." He waved Hiccup off and turned to his dilapidated car where weathered metal peeked through coats of white paint.

As soon as it was socially acceptable, Hiccup shut the door behind him and locked it. His vice grip on the plastic bag was tight enough to turn coal to diamonds and it was nearly impossible for him to breathe. His chest was heavy, his heart pounded with fear, and all he could see were eyes.

Bright, brilliant, emotionless eyes that cut and burn.

"Shit," Hiccup muttered underneath his breath. How close did he cut it this time? Where was Toothless? Could he have handled something like this alone? Could he? The cold sweat upon his forehead clung to his overgrown bangs and his heart was thumping out of his chest. He braced himself and dared to look through the peephole. The delivery boy and his shitty car was gone, his street empty and dark as ever.

He was safe for now.

His eye floated down and he saw the door handle still in one shape although he could tell there were a slight indents from his death grip. He was going to get an ear full from his dad sooner or later about it but at least he had a good reason...But was it a good enough reason? He'd find out in time. All he could really do at the moment was rest his head against the door and try to relax, food in hand and heart beating out of control.

At least he had food and it seemed like food was his only consolation in life. That and Toothless.

"Mrow?" the black cat cried curiously from atop the staircase.

"It's all clear Toothless," Hiccup muttered from his slumped stance.

The cat bounded down from his perch and wrapped himself around Hiccup's leg, purring affectionately. It was hard to be angry, sad, or stressed while Toothless was around (although it was easy to be tired when he pounced onto Hiccup's lap or desk for attention very frequently). He leaned down and scratched the cat in long strokes. Toothless arched his back into Hiccup's movements and his tail curled around his wrist in gratitude.

"Come on bud," Hiccup said as he picked himself up and trudged towards the stairs. It was going to be like every other night, eating in his room with the company of his pet as he slaved over the homework due the next day. It should get his mind away from what could've been.

Hiccup walked up the stairs and the floorboards whined underneath his every step. Toothless knew better than to goad his friend on at a time like this. Instead, he climbed the steps at the same pace as the boy at his side. One's steps were observant while the other's was thoughtful. Either way, they were equal in their own special way.

Hiccup opened the bedroom door and welcomed himself back into the tight confines of his room once again. His bed remained unkempt, scratch paper and homework littered his desktop, and his cellphone's screen glowed a dim blue as it happily indulged in the energy it was being fed. The familiarity of the space rejuvenated him and he could feel himself come back to his own, no longer afraid or tense.

He put the bag down and unpacked it contents onto the carpet floor. Ginger, soy sauce, and oil wafted about his nose and overpowered the odd burnt smell that hid beneath its sticky, sweet smell.

The boy tore open the package of chopsticks and unsheathed the little wooden sticks before opening each one of the containers. Puffs of hot steam rushed out as he lifted the lids making his mouth water excitedly.

Hiccup knelt down onto the floor and shouted, "Itadakimasu!" Toothless looked at Hiccup suspiciously from atop his bed, squinting his forest green eyes to a point where they looked like nothing more than little emerald needles shining against his black coat of fur. Hiccup didn't notice his cat's glare, he was too busy snatching up hot noodles and slurped them down. He munched happily on the chow mein and reached over for a California roll.

"Want one?" He held one up so the black cat could see it clearly.

Toothless leapt down and craned his head up, whiskers shivering as he tried to smell the bit of rice, avocado, and crab. His pupils squeezed themselves into a thin dark slit and then rapidly expanded to normal size before walking away from the sushi.

Hiccup sighed before gobbling up the piece. "I'll get tuna next time," he promised with a full mouth.

Toothless made a noise that was somewhere in between a belly rumble and a purr, the universal "uh huh" in cat languages everywhere.

The mound of chow mein evaporated as soon as Hiccup ran out of California rolls. He was now nibbling on a pork bun and debating whether he should keep on working on the calculus homework or play a game on his laptop. It wasn't a very difficult debate considering he leaned over to pull his laptop out of his backpack, now stained by mud and holes in various places, and logged in.

He stuffed the bun into his mouth and typed in his username and password. He totally wasn't 420BlazeBerk and his password totally was not SmokeCodErryDay.

A message blipped as soon as he signed in reading, "Welcome back 420BlazeBerk."

Part of Hiccup wanted to make a new account so he could bury this God awful username and put it behind him; but then he would remember how many achievements he won on this account and sighed in defeat. He was a true defeatist.

"One new message from Fishlegs!" another message alerted him.

Hiccup signed into the game's chat client and took one final bite out of the sho pao.

"Hey Hiccup! :D" Fishlegs typed eagerly. "Did Astrid give back your calculator?"

He rolled his eyes and typed, "More like threw it at me."

"Ouch. :\"

"Well at least my calculator isn't broken."

":D Do you wanna play a round of Zombie Shooter?"

Hiccup turned his head and stared mournfully at the unfinished homework still on his desk. "Sure, but only a quick one. I haven't finished my hw."

"Are you stuck on 15?"

"That and 17."

"Do you want me to send you a pic of my work? I checked the back and I got those two right."

Hiccup beamed as he typed, "Yes please!" Those two froze him dead in his tracks and he just couldn't figure them out. It was like he was drowning in confusion! What was worse was that his teacher refused to take incomplete homework and he really wanted an A+ in that class. All he needed to do was keep his head above water and he'd be fine.

"No worries, now let's play!" Hiccup could hear Fishlegs's enthusiasm.

He signed into the game and plugged in his mouse. His left hand was suddenly twitchy and he could feel his fingers itching to jump and attack. He had to be careful or else he might break the mouse. Stoick wasn't going to pay for another one unless Hiccup did something like pull the weeds or clean out the rain gutters or something else that would require a level of physical activity he couldn't muster up at all.

The noise of gunshots and screams filled his room, something Toothless did not enjoy in the slightest. He got up and excused himself as soon as he realized which game Hiccup was playing. He preferred quiet, thank you very much, and Zombie Shooter was not conducive to said quiet.

"You know," Hiccup started typing as the game was over, "we haven't made it to the checkpoint this quickly since-"

"Summer? lol," Fishlegs said before Hiccup could finish typing his sentence.

Hiccup cracked his fingers, oh boy did that feel good, before typing, "October's update made everything harder tho."

"Oh yeah. Nerfing the shotgun made everything hard. A -0.3 on the blast radius and -0.8 on distance was horrible. Had to change my attack strategies to compensate."

"What attack strategy?" he chuckled as he typed. "Run away and lead them into a doorway before firing?"

"HEY! It works! :("

Hiccup laughed, "Alright I gotta go. Thanks for sending me the pics."

"No problem. :D Oh but before you go out," Fishlegs typed, "have you heard about the trailer murder?"

Hiccup wasn't really sure what to say. He knew bits and pieces that his father would talk about on the phone with others but not much. "Only the stuff on the news," he half confessed.

"I heard he was stabbed! :O"

He raised his eyebrow in suspicion, "Where'd you hear that?"

"My mom was talking to one of our neighbors and I overheard them talking about a stabbing!"

Hiccup bit his lip anxiously and tried to type calmly, "Well that's spooky." His fingers were trembling as he thought of someone breaking into the trailer, taking out a knife and stabbing its occupant all while in broad daylight. Half of his fear came from the thought of a cold blooded killer walking around town but the other half came from the thought of a person who'd murder another person with such visceral and antiquated methods. Hands touching blood, the look of pain and betrayal, struggling to end life; it was something straight out of Zombie Shooter.

"Oh gotta go," Fishlegs sent in a message. "My mom's calling me to clean up. See you 2morrow!"

Hiccup watched his friend's status light transition from the online lime green to the offline dead grey. At least he didn't have to lie to escape more questions from his friend. Fishlegs was the sort of person to ask one too many questions and being related to Stoick meant people would ask questions more often than he would like. It was a good thing that no one actually liked Hiccup or else he'd have to field these sort of questions on a daily basis.

Wait. Did he just give himself a backhanded compliment?

Hiccup slapped his forehead and climbed up into his chair. Staring at question fifteen, he unplugged his cellphone and looked for Fishleg's copy of the homework. He strained his eyes to pick out the numbers and letters through the grainy and pixilated images. He didn't notice the creak of a door opening nor did he notice the pitter patter of Toothless's paws tramping on the carpet. In fact, he barely registered his eyes floating down, heavy with sleep, and his pencil slipping out of his grip.

* * *

Cold, slithery slime wrapped around Hiccup's neck. Damp tentacles hitched up and down his Adam's Apple and coiled around his throat. His neck was dripping with putrid fluid that leaked out of monstrous pores. He wanted to move, he was desperate to escape, but he couldn't. All he could muster was a shiver. He was trapped. Helpless.

The fluid oozed down his shoulders and onto his lanky arms and back. He felt so dirty as this nasty monster stained his bare skin with its poisonous venom that surely left him paralyzed. If only he could just move his hands and pull the tentacles off!

His arms trembled as he tried to jerk them up, marinating in the same liquid fear that left him exposed. Tentacles spawned out of the darkness to bind his arms behind his back, as if he wasn't held back already. The wetness crept down his spine and circled his waist. A heavy weight pressed against his heart and he wanted to scream for Stoick, for Toothless, for anyone to save him but all he could manage was a gurgle of saliva that collected at the back of his mouth.

His eyes darted left and right for escape but there was only darkness, emptiness, quiet.

Except for the eyes.

Glowing eyes that grew and grew with every beat of his frantically fluttering heart. Hiccup's gurgles/screams grew louder and louder but his body refused to move. He wanted out!

In a split second, the acres of skin doused in the tentacles strange liquid were broken by ice. The heavy coils that bound his neck and arms felt like stone against his skin, sharp spirals that bit into his skin and pricked him all over. He was so scared to breathe, so scared to move. He just wanted to close his eyes and disappear.

But the eyes kept them open.

A thin white smoke hovered over his chest and Hiccup held his breath. As the wispy clouds descended inch by inch, his eyebrows rose higher and higher, forehead creasing in pain and alarm. The air in his lungs were suddenly hot and sticky and a pressure formed against his ribs. He felt like a searing hot anvil was being lowered onto his chest. He could smell the burning of hair and garbage invade his nostrils. He would've gagged if it weren't for the brambly collar upon his neck.

The eyes were now directly above him and from this close up he could see a silver lining. The thin wire of metal vibrated for a moment before unfurling open into more and more strings. They hooked up to one another, wrapped around each other, and curled out until together into a grotesque spiderweb. But the web moved out in all directions, up and down, left and right, filling the space and conturing until it resembled...an arm.

Hiccup gulped hard, throat scratching the noose around his throat and letting out new cuts along his Adam's Apple. The pain was nothing in comparison to the sight of a metal hand reaching out to him. It stopped right above his heart where the smoke was heaviest and, with its fingertips drew the smoke up. The wisps followed their own wills, dancing out of the way as the eyes pulled a bloody, scratched hunting knife out of the thick air.

The hand gripped the knife by its handle and it let the fresh blood drip down the side of the blade and onto Hiccup's chest. The droplets stung like rubbing alcohol on a fresh cut and they continued to burn all the way down into his bones. The eyes closed and the iron hand held the blade high before-

Hiccup jolted up, his arms flailing about and knocking things over. Toothless sprang up from the untouched bed and arched his back, ready to strike. The boy shuddered as he took long, deep breaths to bring his quick beating heart down and his fingernails dug into his palms as he tried to calm down.

"It was only a dream," he chanted. "Only a dream, only a dream, only a dream."

His mind raced to rationalize it, compartmentalize it, break it down into simple things and file them away. The grease must've upset his stomach which gave him the nightmare. His bad posture only accelerated the chemical reaction. Yes, these were all good reason why his nightmare happened. He had to trivialize it, focus on other things, push away the dream...push it away.

His pencil lay next to his calculator and his homework was a crumpled mess. Pressing his fingers against his temple, he groaned in fear of what time it was. He briefly considered not going to school at all and just sleeping in. His head was pounding and muscles were slick with a cold sweat, maybe it would be a good idea to just call in sick today.

But wait they were going to do that experiment on aerodynamics in physics today.

Hiccup moaned as he debated whether to skip a day and rest or to go to school and be dead tired the entire day. Sleeping in a bed would be nice but _aerodynamics_. It was quite the debate as he slowly brought up his head and massaged the bags out from underneath his eyes. By the time Toothless rolled over, exposing his black furry belly to the sky, he resolved to take a nice long shower, down a few pills of aspirin, and get to school when he was ready (even if that meant missing out on first period).

He pushed himself out of his rickety old chair, one that was bound to break any time soon, and stood motionless for a moment. Everything seemed so slow, so heavy, and yet so loud. His breathing was like a jet engine and the ticking of a clock in the living room was like a cleaver cutting through flesh and bone in a butcher's shop. His senses were overloaded and everything hurt. Walking was like a death march and looking around was like staring at the sun head on. Every nerve was brunt to a crisp and his muscles were all aching from being hunched over for so long.

He wandered into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Without turning on the lights, he undressed and turned the shower on. Pipes screamed from behind the walls and water spat out of the ancient head. Stepping inside, heat enveloped him and eased out the knots and washed pools of sweat away. In isolation, his senses dulled and he found a fleeting moment of peace. He rest his head against the tiled wall, brown locks of hair sticking to his forehead, and took a breath.

"It was just a dream," he murmured amidst the white noise of water pelting his body and floor. "It's gonna be okay, just a dream, Hiccup. Just a dream."

Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of the shower and quickly dried off. The process of getting ready was unremarkable aside from the belly scratches Toothless demanded as soon as Hiccup returned to his bedroom. He swallowed the aspirin pills and ate his bowl of oatmeal as he usually would, a handful of blueberries to punctuate an otherwise dull breakfast ritual.

All signs in the kitchen pointed to Stoick's absence: no newspaper on the countertop, no stray hardhats or blueprints on the table, and no greasy pots or pans on the stove. He didn't expect his father to be back so early but anything was in the realm of possibility.

"Oh," he hissed. He rushed to the front door and swung it open. The door handle was still dented, a strange swirly pattern marked the indents artfully. Hiccup looked around, hoping no one was eyeing him at this hour of the morning and draped his sweater sleeve over the dented knob. He polished the round bit of metal, warming it up with his hand, and continued to peer around for any onlookers. He hoped he looked normal, polishing a doorknob was a normal thing to do right?

He stood back and eyed his handy work. The doorknob was completely clean of all dents and markings. It was good as new or at least looked pretty close to new. Surely Stoick wouldn't notice his little "accident" or at least pretend like he didn't notice and fix it on his own time.

He snatched his backpack, last night's rumpled homework stuffed alongside his books and binders, and dusted himself off. Toothless meowed from atop the staircase, saying goodbye to Hiccup as he usually would before wandering off to do his own business.

"Bye Toothless!" the boy shouted before stepping out onto the lawn and locking the door behind him. Today was going to be a good day, he wanted nothing more than to have a good day and go home.

And perhaps the Gods shined their countenances upon him today for a movie about Abraham Lincoln was playing during first period. The teacher did not notice the boy slither into class for the darkness was too thick and all eyes were fixed upon the sixteenth President's marvelous top hat. And like first period, a movie about Beowulf was put on for his second period English class. He took both opportunities to cross his arms and coil into a ball, resting happily against a backdrop of brambly politics and ruthless bloodshed.

He was well rested for their physics class, a good thing considering they were going to go outside and test the wind resistance of their constructions. Cold wind whipped around him and bit into his exposed hands and cheeks while he threw the little paper airplane against the breeze. There was no formal competition but if there was he would've been the winner. Suzy earned second place but convinced everyone who within earshot that she would've won if her plane wasn't caught in a spider's web (although that didn't change the fact it hit cut straight through and slammed right into a tree trunk).

Hiccup's luck continued all the way to lunch where, for the first time in a month, they were serving chicken quesadillas. He happily munched on the slimy, cheesy goodness while Fishlegs babbled excitedly about the upcoming patch for Zombie Shooter. The hot and toasty quesadilla was a welcome reprieve amidst the frigid air outside. He welcomed the delicious burn that radiated on his tongue and rested in his chest and gut.

But minutes before lunch ended, the Gods turned their countenances away from the boy as he realized with a jaw dropping revelation...

Art was up next.

Ms. Hadsi wanted to see what Hiccup had been drawing for the past two days and he had absolutely nothing to show. Oh what a way to end such a wonderful day at school. It was the bitter rind left in his jelly, the sour note in the serendipitous symphony he composed today, the stray fishbone in his meal.

Hiccup began his walk, the green mile that ended in paint and graphite. He dreaded Ms. Hadsi's chipper voice, the jangle of her earrings and bracelets, eyes that analyzed and picked apart his every brushstroke and line. Maybe he could make a run for it...

Although, living with Stoick, a man of vast and equally impossible hopes for his son, weathered his skin so he could take whatever Ms. Hadsi had to lash out. All he had to say was that he was sorry, walk away glumly, and suppress the urge to say something sarcastic; it always worked.

But all of his strife was for naught as soon as he opened the art room. Rather than a trendy woman with gold jewelry dripping down her sides or feathers dotting her dress, a man was at her desk. A very intimidating man wearing a white checkered shirt that did nothing to hide the abundance of muscles upon his body. A man who as soon as he stood up, Hiccup felt like he was dwarfed in the shadow of a mountain. A man who looked like he could pulverize a person's jaw into sawdust with a single jab.

His stomach turned over.

"Alright, everyone get to your seats," the man said in a gruff voice. "My name's Mr. Walker and I'm your sub for today. Before you ask, I'm not from Texas; it was funny for the first period but it got old really fast."

Hiccup was too afraid to look at the substitute teacher. That guy looked like he lifted yaks for his warmup routine and ate nails for breakfast (without milk). He rushed to his desk and maintained zero eye contact, easy for someone who was used to being virtually invisible.

"Your teacher said you have a project due Friday so you should all be hard at work. If I catch any one of you goofing around," he cracked his knuckles and half of the class swallowed hard.

The room was utterly silent for a solid minute.

"Well?" the teacher asked suspiciously. "Go on then. Work."

Hiccup pursed his lips and waited for some brave soul to get up. One by one, students got out of their seats and fearfully retrieved their necessary art supplies under the unrelenting gaze of Mr. Walker. The entire room was quiet except for the scratching noises of pencils against paper or footsteps navigating the maze of desks for an easy escape.

The boy stood up and felt Mr. Walker's eyes cut into him. He tried to shake off the feeling of being probed and ignored his gaze as best as he could. Gods this guy was a thousand times worse than Ms. Hadsi and he only said thirty words. He prayed that he wouldn't get up from that desk of his and start asking questions about his...work.

Hiccup took a deep breath and hoped he received a response in his cubby hole. He stuck his hand in and...yes! There was a paper sitting on top of his sketchbook! He got all giddy and antsy as he wondered what his artist/pen pal replied with. What meme could it possibly be.

He pulled the page out of his little box and he whispered a single word.

"Shit."

A flare of purple light blinded him and sent him staggering backwards. He bumped into a desk as a burning sensation spread through his hand violently. He thew the paper aside as quickly as he could and gripped his hand tightly, his nerves aching as the imaginary fire blazed on underneath his skin. The page slowly unfurled from the wrinkled ball Hiccup forced it into, revealing its sinister shape.

A pentagram! He turned his head around and realized that everything had a slight purple tint to it. The windows, the floor, even the people all had a violet hue draped around them. In fact, nothing was moving. None of the students turned their heads in horror at the color that tinted their world nor did anyone seem to do anything. Everyone and everything was trapped.

Except for Hiccup apparently.

"Shit shit shit," he hissed as he tried to figure out what could've happened. Someone obviously set this trap for him but who? No. Why? Why would someone make this trap for him in a school? What was their goal?

Hiccup's body started to tremble as the thought of an assassin coming for him raced through his mind. He could feel eyes, unblinking and ever observant, in this very classroom and monitoring his every action.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to get outside where there was enough open space to do something.

The boy raced out of the classroom and down the hallway. His footsteps thudded against the tile floors, beating like a parade drum in this newly made mausoleum. His breaths grated against his own ears as cold air grated against his drying windpipe. His eyes strained at the purple, all of the purple that seeped into every corner and stained every inch possible.

Everything was still. Students who were walking to the bathroom, a teacher hunched over a falling projector, water arching out of a broken water fountain; everything in this goddamn school was frozen in place with a horrific purple.

Hiccup had to pause for a moment so he could ask if he was hallucinating. He pinched his wrist and winced immediately at the self inflicted injury. The pinkish crescent on his skin was a clear sign that he was indeed conscious and not trapped in some dream-cage (unless an evil genius was manipulating his senses but that was going out on a stretch).

This immediately lead to the next question, why _not_ trap him in a dream-cage or paralyze him on the onset? Why give him the opportunity to run and hide?

Before he could ask more futile questions, his eyes latched onto something in the distance. A person wearing a dark hooded robe of some kind was standing...no...levitating a few inches off of the floor. They slowly descended and as soon as their feet made contact with the Earth, Hiccup staggered back as a rush of air slammed through the hallway and against his body. He could feel the thick, inky energy dripping around this person and did what this person wanted him to do in the first place.

He ran.

His first step was a stumble since turning on dime with his level of physical coordination was not easy. His legs quivered as he tried to remember where the exits were in this school. He just had to get outside and then he'd be home free. He swung a left and tried to remember where the staircase was. Straight or right? Which one? Which one!

He pushed straight ahead and much to his dismay it only led deeper into the building. Holding art class on the second floor was typically a good idea, you could look through the windows and see a nice view at any time of the day and be inspired all the time, but when running for your life when there are only a few staircases in the entire building...this was certainly problematic.

The stranger stood far behind Hiccup and raised its arm. A loud hum with two very distinct tones snuck into his ears and grew incredibly loud. When he thought it couldn't get any louder the windows to his left shattered into a million pieces. If he wasn't careful, every bone in his body could be crushed by what he assumed to be some kind of sonic boom or his brain would burst in his skull and pink stuff would leak out of his ears.

All he needed was some metal and he could defend himself. He wasn't sure what would happen if this person's magic collided with his but it was worth a shot.

His eyes raced for large quantities of iron or steel as he sprinted through the hallways. Some lockers or a fire extinguisher or-

He was so busy looking around that he collided into another person. His head was a little dizzy from the impact and it didn't feel like there were mysterious dark robes clothing the person so maybe he was safe? But the first thing the boy could say seemed to say otherwise.

"You!" he scrambled away, arms flailing in complete fear. The same eyes that bore into him during his nightmare were now right here in front of him. "Delivery boy!" Hiccup pointed at his blue sweater accusingly. "Get back or I'll-"

"What?" the boy asked confusedly as he struggled to get up.

"Who are you?" he shouted.

"How aren't you frozen?" he asked in return.

"I should ask you the same thing!" Hiccup searched for something to turn and backed slowly into a classroom door. "The doorknob! That would be perfect!" he cheered in his head before sneaking his left hand gripped the cool metal and warming it up in his palm.

"What is going on?" the boy pressed on. His blue eyes barely stood out against the purple backdrop of the world and his skin, although a bit pale, lacked the violet tint that kept everything in place.

"Shouldn't you know?" his hand squeezed on the door knob harder than before.

"Woah there," he flashed him an incredulous look. "Are you saying I had something to do with this?"

"You haven't been affected by the magic so I wouldn't be surprised if you did."

"Don't start pointing fingers at me," he said sternly as he pushed himself up with his bony arms.

Hiccup jerked his left arm forward and somehow he drew a sword out of the doorknob. The boy hardened his gaze as the steel solidified and became a long and sharp scimitar, glittering light at the tip of its blade.

The other boy yelped and hobbled backwards, stuttering, "Don't be hasty here. Why don't you put away the big salami sword and-"

"Who are you," he demanded, lowering the blade so it pointed directly at his crotch.

He gasped and covered his groin, "Not cool!"

"Who. Are. You."

"I'm Jack!" he cried out. "I delivered your Chinese food last night and, if you point that thing somewhere else, I'll help you get out of here!"

"How can I trust you?" Hiccup's grip on the handle of the blade tightened.

"Well I haven't killed you yet, so I think I've answered your question." Jack noticed Hiccup's knuckles were now white at how tightly he was holding the sword and added to his defense, "And I know a shortcut to get out of here."

Hiccup was torn. He really had no reason to trust this guy which could easily lend itself to being a trap. On the other hand, this kid knew how to get out of here fast (or at least faster than he was capable of on his own) and potentially had magical abilities. Hiccup wasn't very strong in general, he could barely hold up the sword let alone shape it from the doorknob, so having a companion could mean the difference between life and death...or at least in here.

"Fine," Hiccup said putting his arm down. Jack gave a breath of relief as his family jewels were now no longer threatened by a three foot blade. "After you."

Jack got to his feet and pointed down a corridor. "We've got to go that way and then hit a left. Come on!" he shouted.  
Hiccup lugged the sword on his shoulder, he wasn't going to drag it and he _certainly_ wasn't going to get rid of his only protection, and ran behind this Jack fellow. The metal weighed him down to the point where his poor show of legs flailing forwards and back was now a strained stomping. His legs lurched forward, shoulders sagged, chest heaved; why it looked as if his body had a certain bounce to it as he struggled to keep up the pace,

In comparison, Jack seemed to glide down the hallways effortlessly. He leaned forward as his long, razor thin legs stretched out and propelled him forward.

Arms stretched out as if they were reaching for some imaginary obstacle that he would fly up and over. Was he sprinting? Gods, how was he so fast?

Hiccup heard a feint thrum in the back of his skull and skidded to a stop. Where was it? Where was the hunter? He swung his head left and right searching for the assassin. He turned around and narrowed his eyes, heart pounding in between his ears.

"What are you doing?" Jack shouted over his shoulder. "Come on!"

Hiccup lugged the sword from over his shoulder with a long stride and stomped his feet. His legs were wide open, his body in an ugly looking squat, and sword held with both of his hands. The black clothed person was walking straight towards them and the hum was growing louder and louder.

He changed his grip, the sword now in his right hand and his left pulsating to the beat of his heart. He dragged the tips of his fingers up the side of the blade and felt it warm up to his touch. The scimitar vibrated as the metal grew hotter and hotter as his hand got closer and closer to the point of the blade.

And as fast as he could, he swiped his hand back down the side of the blade and clasped his left hand over his right. The sword imploded, retreating into the tiny forge of Hiccup's hands, and then a long metal pole sprang up out of his palms. A sharp arrowhead flowered out of the tip of the rod and glittered a feint vermillion upon the length of its blade. Its form hardened under a second and Jack could've sworn he heard a hammer striking metal somewhere.

"Woah," Jack said underneath his breath. He couldn't believe what he just saw and was nowhere near possible to imagine how it happened. All he knew was that this guy transformed a doorknob into a sword into a spear and that was _really cool_. It was clear that he was going to get out of this hell hole death trap easily with this badass behind him.

Hiccup lifted the spear with his left arm and aimed it over his shoulder.

"Holy shit is he going to throw that thing?" Jack asked himself. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched Hiccup plant a foot forward, ready to throw. "Oh my god he is going to fuckin impale that guy!" His eyes widened in excitement as he watched the boy angle himself, coil his hand back as far as he could, and throw!

The spear sailed out of Hiccup's hand and whistled as it cut through the stale, dense air. It was a lightning bolt as it soared straight towards the unknown man, straight and true. The spearhead glistened in the purple hued halls, ready to skewer the man's internal organs and leave him to die pathetically.

Jack's mouth hung in amazement while he thought to himself, "Jeez that thing must be heavy!" And he was right.

Slowly, his jaw raised and his lips drew close each other as he processed how heavy the spear must've been and how...lacking in the arm area this boy was.

The spear arced down and clanged as it hit the floor. Hiccup gulped as soon as he realized that the spear barely traveled half the distance between himself and the hunter. It didn't even break the tile and stick upright! It just laid there on the floor unceremoniously, pathetically if he had to be completely honest with himself.

Jack cleared his throat, hoping it would break the boy out of his stupor and remind him to hurry up. He resisted to say "fail" underneath the cough because that would just be adding insult to injury.

But before Hiccup could even turn around, the attacker raised its arm towards them and the a familiar hum reverberated throughout the hallway. Hiccup dashed to Jack's side and shouted, "Hurry up!"

They rounded a corner just in the nick of time and barely evaded the blast of glass shrapnel that flew out at them. The assassin bent down and gingerly touched the now warped and horrifically bent spear. The rod was bent and twisted at all angles and resembled a tumbleweed more than a weapon. It was cold and devoid of energy, as if it had lived its entire life as a spear and nothing more. How fascinating.

Meanwhile, Hiccup and Jack were racing down the school corridors and having a very healthy debate.

"What the fuck was that?" Jack shouted as he lead the way.

"Excuse me?"

"That was the weakest throw I've ever seen in my life!"

"Spears made out of solid steel aren't exactly the lightest thing either!"

"Were you expecting it to be like a pokesphere?" he seethed.

"I didn't think it'd be that heavy! And for your information, it's pokeball," he huffed.

"What?" asked with a contorted expression.

"For your information," Hiccup nearly screamed, "they're called pokeballs!"

"You threw the worst spear toss in all of time and space and you're concerned about semantics?"

"Get your facts straight!"

"Whatever nerd," Jack growled. He had to figure out how to get back on track. If they kept going down this hallway and make a right, they'd be-

"Jack!" Hiccup shouted at the top of his lungs.

He stomped hard into the ground, sneakers screeching as he came to a near halt. He looked up, ready to rip into the boy who messed up and demand why he was slowing them down and paled.

The black robed person loomed towards them from the other end of the hallway. He could feel the mouldering vibration in his chest growing down to the pit of his gut and up his throat. His eyes darted for...yes!

He raised his arm towards a porcelain water fountain and fixed his eyes on the leaky pipe underneath its basin. Energy ebbed down his arm and leaked through his fingertips. He took a deep breath and aimed his open hand towards the fountain. The blue veins on top of his hand darkened as his grip tightened around an imaginary ball.

Then he tightened his fist.

Hiccup felt cold air rush into his lungs.

Jack swung his fist away from the water fountain, towards the windows, and stared their assassin down. Thick columns of ice burst out of the fountain, sending porcelain shrapnel in every which direction. The pipe screamed and whined as more and more ice sprang forth to separate the two boys from the hunter.

Hiccup watched breathlessly as the popup glacier finished forming and easily created a very thick barrier. Through the ice, he could see a warped and distorted person on the other side shielding themselves, clearly taken by surprise by the attack.

"Come on!" Jack shouted before doubling back and leading Hiccup through an adjacent hallway. Even though they put a fair amount of distance behind them, they could still hear the dark humming behind them and then the sound of glass smashing into a million pieces.

"What was that?" Hiccup asked, half in shock and the other half in amazement.

"Ice!" Jack laughed.

He was dumbstruck by the simplicity of his answer. "Of course it was ice, Sherlock," he wanted to say but he was still trying to process what just happened. He knew people could master the elements but he never seen someone do it so effortlessly and so easily before. How was he able to move the ice into a barrier like that? Why did the temperature around them drop before the ice formed? How could he do _that_ in the first place?

But Hiccup noticed something very different. Jack seemed to bounce with every step. He swore he could hear a chuckle coloring his every breath. His body just seemed so full of life and excitement all of a sudden. Even in the face of a random killer with magical powers, this kid seemed to be having the time of his life. Was this guy a masochist?

"Just to be safe," Jack whispered before spinning on his heel and turning to face Hiccup.

"Woah there buddy! What are you doing?" he yelped.

Jack made sure Hiccup passed a certain water fountain before aiming his hand at it. Ice burst out of the porcelain and created a wall behind Hiccup. Oh. This must be something to delay the hunter and buy them some time. An obstacle. That made sense.

"Come on," he said as he lowered his fist. "The stairwell is this way!"

Hiccup could've sworn he caught a glimpse of him grinning.

Hiccup cautiously went down the staircase whereas Jack bounded from the first level to the bottom level in one quick jump. His made a huge thud as his jump echoed up and down the stairwell. If that didn't give their location away, nothing would.

"Come on! You're not lugging around a spear or sword anymore so you can stop pretending to be slow!" the white haired boy goaded him on.

This kid was starting to get on Hiccup's nerves and the thought of punch this this guy's face was starting to seem more and more necessary. They were being chased by some murderer who could shoot sonic booms or crack their ribs or something horrific in general and this ass had the gall to be laughing at a time like this! He was completely and utterly insane!

A loud explosion thrummed through the ceiling, shaking the walls and rattling the lockers around them. The tinkle of glass and ice shattering echoed through down the hallway and towards the two boys. Clearly Jack's makeshift iceberg did nothing to deter their stalker.

"Stand back," Jack said with such bravado that it instantly made Hiccup roll his eyes. Hiccup watched as Jack raised the long twigs for arms were hoisted above his head. His hands slowly closed into fists and a chill ran up the auburn haired boy's spine.

He waited for the sight of black robes looming towards him. Not the gut churning noise of his sonic boom whatever, only black robes. He didn't want to jump the gun on this one. He wanted a clean kill and for this all to be over. As soon as Jack could see a black robe racing towards them he'd end this once and for all.

The eerie vibrato whispered in their ears and Hiccup said soundly, "Jack, what are you doing? Come on, we've got the head start!"

Jack's eyes fixed on the staircase, arms straining as he waited.

"Jack!" the hum was louder than Hiccup ever heard it before. His fingers gripped tightly in the blue fabric of his hoodie as he tugged on it desperately.

Blue eyes widened as the hunter was not just walking but rather flying towards them! The hum was so loud that he could barely hear Hiccup's screams over the heart stopping moan that would tear them to bits any second now.

"Jack!"

The boy brought his arms down, as if he were carrying an axe and split a log right down the middle. Pipes groaned painfully before ice erupted out of the ceiling and impaled the space beneath them with thick icicles. Drywall fell like snow and tiles were shattered as the icicles came down like thunder.

There was now a thick forest of translucent stalactites separating them from the...unharmed assassin. He seemed completely and utterly unscathed, even untouched by Jack's trap.

The hum momentarily dropped in volume, perhaps as a result of their hunter being put onto the defensive, but it rose quickly. Hiccup lunged towards a wall of lockers and pushed his arms into the thin metal plates. His hands heated up immediately as energy coursed through his veins and into the metal around him.

He pulled his arms as if he were dramatically drawing a curtain over a window and let the magic surge out of him. A wall of thick iron sprang out of the row of lockers and slammed into the wall opposite it with an earth shattering bang.

"Run!" Hiccup shouted angrily before the hum reached its apex. The sound of a hammer striking an ancient church bell slammed through their thin bodies and a massive dent appeared in the shield Hiccup erected.

Jack picked himself up and ran, hoping the boy who just saved his ass was keeping up. It was hard to pick out the second set of footsteps behind him, the high pitched whine seemed intent on not getting softer any time soon.

"You idiot!" Hiccup wanted to scream at Jack. He wanted to point out that they've wasted precious time on his failure of a trap or that they could've died right there if Hiccup didn't make a wall. He wanted to smack some sense into this idiot but...something held him back for some reason. Maybe it was that he was tired from all this running or maybe it was the sick sense of justice he got out of seeing Jack fall on his face.

Jack braced himself as he slammed through a set of double doors. They were much heavier than he remembered but then again, he didn't pay much attention to doors that were unlocked and open to him. The November afternoon was much cooler than he expected. A breeze picked up around him while trees swayed rhythmically in the distance.

Hiccup joined him at his side and stared in horror. The landscape...everything had a sinister purple tint, the same color which signified time stopping in its place.

How was any of this possible? How could a single person create such a powerful spell and keep it going? Who was this person?

"I'm going to the pool," Jack stated before walking towards the recreation area.

"Woah hang on Lone Ranger," Hiccup ran up to him and debated whether he should put a hand on his shoulder. He decided not to. "I don't think now is the time for a swim. You might drown."

"I need water if I'm going to make ice," Jack said in a clipped tone, not really interested in explaining the fine details of his magic.

Hiccup pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. The sour answer only reminded him that he could leave this guy behind and race home. There were enough totems and shields to keep him safe; oh and Toothless was there too. He'd definitely be safe.

But that didn't change the fact that he'd be leaving someone behind to deal with an assassin on their own, an assassin who clearly had a power much greater than any one of them could muster on their alone.

Hiccup bit his lip, debating whether he should stay with Jack or go. He swallowed hard on the thick lump of fear in the back of his throat and ran home.

Jack turned and saw a green baggy sweater racing down the street, the exact opposite direction he was headed. Honestly, he couldn't say that he was surprised. That kid didn't seem like the fighting type and he didn't seem very strong. Maybe he was fast enough to get escape their stalker and survive.

But Jack didn't want to just survive, he was sick of surviving, he wanted to live.

His legs, so accustomed to running, carried him over wet patches of too green grass and soggy leaves. He raced to the pool, the one place where he could stand his ground and actually put up a fight. He climbed over the locked gate and leapt onto the wet concrete, sneakers squeaking as he made full contact. His eyes scanned the space and took in his surroundings.

He clenched his fists and let the temperature drop around him. A thin layer of frost formed on the concrete and pebbles of ice appeared on the edge of the pool.

He took a deep breath to calm himself before walking towards the pool. The pebbles turned to marbles and grew into rocks as he grew closer to the poolside.

He gulped hard and extended his right foot so it hovered inches above the chlorinated water. His first step was a trembling one but it proved to be a solid one.

His sole met the hard, heavy surface of ice and he sighed in relief. It was hard to do this with shoes on.

He took his left foot and brought it next to his right. His balance was a little wobbly but ice spread outwards regardless. Jack asserted himself atop the floating pedestal as if it were assuring him that his reign was just and sure. He began his walk out towards the center of the pool, a thick carpet of ice and snow forming underneath his careful march.

So there he stood at the eye of a storm ready to be unleashed. Fists clenched at his sides, waves lapping at the floating walkway, eyes searching fearfully for his opponent. The wind begged him to float away, zip off to some quiet hiding hole in the woods, but he would have none of it. He was going to fight.

The familiar hum trembled behind him and he stomped hard. An iceberg behind him sprang up from the depths, snapping pool lines and sending multicolored plastic donuts flying all over the place and rolling down its jagged surface. Something slammed hard against the iceberg, snow and shards of ice flying all over the place and pelting Jack in a hail of his own work.

The iceberg sloshed back and forth from the impact of the blast. Through the cold mist that formed around him, he could see a shadow in the distance and swung his arm towards the blotch of black and grey. Icicles thrust out of the pool's surface like rockets and soared towards the shadow. The dark figure floated away and ice shattered in the distance like a crystal goblet falling to the ground. Jack continued to swing his arms at the hunter but still missed. Either he was slow or this guy was fast, he refused to accept either and continued to swing.

A hum grew faster than he expecting and leapt. The icy platform he was just standing on erupted into a wild mess of wet, frozen shards. Luckily he formed another platform beneath him before water could touch his shoes and he tossed a few icicles in the general direction of the blast. Again, he missed and the hum raged on.

He leapt towards the tip of the iceberg and perched himself atop its frozen peak. Jack turned to face the source of the cursed two note song, its crescendo rising to a nearly deafening volume. He slammed his hands together in a massive clap with all the force he could muster. Spears and columns of ice rose out of the pool in a single wave. They flourished out in all directions, hunting for the hunter. The landscape was now a frozen forest, icicles radiating outwards like a flower. He stood in the center of this crown of thorns, searching for freshly spilled blood.

Jack's cheeks were rosy and his breathing was labored. A warm bead of sweat dragged down his freezing temple. His arms ached as he started to feel the full weight of the magic he barely had control over. As his thumb ran over the pads of his completely numb fingers, they felt like nothing more than thin plastic. The nerves in his hands and feet were starting to falter.

He didn't mind the cold but that didn't mean his body carried the same mentality.

He jerked his head towards the side and jumped as hard as his legs let him. He narrowly avoided a blast from the side and slid underneath a massive icicle projecting out from the, now frozen, pool. Debris from the iceberg shattered around and above him, clanking unceremoniously against the newly hardened ice.

The air vibrated and Jack jolted out of his cover and towards another low hanging icicle. The sonic boom demolished the spot he was hiding and tore through the icy floor he created, unleashing the frigid water it hid underneath. It was as if an invisible meteor was fired from the heavens and aimed at the boy who dared to challenge this assassin. Jack punched the air and a flurry of frozen missiles erupted out of the freshly made hole. His weapons pierced nothing and fell to the earth, breaking into a thousand shards.

It was difficult to hear the hum. After being chased through the school and fighting this guy on his own for God-knows-how-long, his senses were dulling. His ears rang perpetually and his muscles were now dealing with magic fatigue. If he kept going, he might hurt himself. If not that, he'd die. Pushing forward was his only way of survival.

But he couldn't keep this up forever. His main defense was his hearing; if he could hear the assassin's attack then he could jump out of the way or strike back.

But since the sonic bursts were slowly chipping away at his hearing it was becoming difficult to be aware of anything at all. Sight couldn't help him spot a vague shadow, touch and smell would be utterly useless, and taste...how could he fight a battle using his tongue?

His train of thought was broken by a rising hum he barely noticed. He sprinted out of his cover and was caught in the blast of the sonic boom. He tumbled forward and was slammed against a thick pillar of ice that jutted out menacingly.

Jack collapsed to the frigid floor and laid on his side. Frost bit into his exposed skin and clawed at his bones. His head was swimming and he could barely keep his eyes open. If he moved too quickly he'd risk throwing up. His hearing...all he could hear was a single, monotone ringing. His heartbeat was so loud, oh God what was that pressure against his skull. It felt like a giant was squeezing his head between its behemoth fingers. He clenched his jaw hard as he carefully pressed a hand to his forehead.

There.

Through the haze of his eyes, a dark figure approached him. Everything was so loud, so goddamn loud! He wanted it to stop!  
His eyes fixed on a glinting piece of metal. Through his shaky vision, he could tell it was...a knife. A very long knife. A knife people used for cutting up animals in the wild when they've fallen into...a trap.

Jack tried to push himself up, refusing to find himself helpless like a wounded doe, but he was too weak to stand. A shallow cut on his cheek trickled out a thin bead of hot blood and slowly fell to the ground in a silent splash. Breathing was hard now; he was completely exhausted and his sides were undoubtably covered in a purpling bruise.

He wasn't going to be put down like this. He'd bite this guy's arm off even if that's all he could do.

He raised his arm as high as he could, formed a weak fist, and slammed it onto the ice. Harpoons of ice sprang up at the man but he easily dodged it with a single side step. Jack tried again, his fist weaker and his arm lower, but the man avoided his attack effortlessly.

"You," the man croaked out. His voice was as airy and thin as a morning mist but gritty as an eighty year old chain smoker. "You are not the one I was sent for."

Jack growled as he brought his fist down again but failed to skewer his attacker yet again.

"But you have seen too much." The man brandished the knife, pointing its untarnished blade at the boy. "It doesn't matter, you are clearly at your end."

Jack tried one more time but the man backed up, an icicle centimeters away from his robes.

A low hum was followed immediately by an explosion of ice shards. Jack winced as he was pelted with chunks of his failed defense. "I shall certainly take pleasure," the man dragged out the final syllable with a sinister tone, "in ending your life."

Jack looked up at the sky and thought he heard thunder. Even from a the few precious feet that distanced him from the assassin, he towered over him like a monolith. His presence was overwhelming while is magical energy corroded at his own. The dagger was tightly held in his fist and he could see the cold blue of his eyes in its reflection.

A flash of blueish mist suddenly draped over them and his body felt rather warm. The man's attention was drawn away from him and it seemed like he was staring at something in the sky.

"You!" the man hissed from behind his hood. "I am through wasting my time on children!" A tritone hum cut through the ringing in Jack's ears and a wide translucent purple beam shot out from the man's hood and into the sky.

Jack looked completely bewildered at the grey-purple sky above as the beam shot straight through a few clouds and parted a hole in them. He squinted, searching for the thing that distracted his assassin, and squeezed his eyes shut as the man fired another beam into the sky.

When he opened his eyes, the same blueish mist coated the space again and a feeling of warmth draped over him.

The man marched forward, swinging the dagger and unleashing the blueish mist as he pushed forward. Occasionally he'd be pushed back but he would continue to push forward. He jumped onto a large icicle and snarled nastiest hiss he could muster, "Your time has come!"

There was a brief moment of silence before a clap of thunder echoed proudly through the afternoon sky. It was hard to see but Jack caught a glimpse of a bolt of azure fly towards the hunter and explode upon impact. He turned his head towards the clouds, searching for what could've unleashed the brilliant cannon fire.

Something cold and hard coiled around his torso and hoisted him off of the ground. Jack felt like throwing up but the need to scream overpowered him. He would've been much louder if the wretched squeeze around his body did not press harshly into his recently earned bruises. The frigid battleground of the pool deck was shrinking underneath his wiggling arms and legs. A light hum vibrated in his chest before his entire body was jerked to the side, easily evading the blast from the assassin below.

"Hey Jack!" a familiar nasally voice snuck into his ears through the wind fluttering around him.

He craned his head up, ignoring the vertigo that washed over him. "What?"

"Are you okay?" the auburn haired boy shouted, clearly concerned.

"What is going on?" he could only shout back.

"Well uhh, meet my dragon."

"You have a dragon?" he cried out in disbelief.

"Yeah, his name is Toothless and he likes cod."

This had to be a dream.

Yes. This was a very elaborate stress dream brought about by the anatomy test he had on Friday. That was the only way he could possibly justify being stalked like prey throughout the school, having a brush with death a few moments ago, and being hoisted from above by a dragon piloted by a scrawny, brown haired boy.

A black, scaly head craned itself underneath its body to look at Jack. The white haired boy gasped while the overgrown lizard gave a gummy smile and let its tongue flop about in the wind. Droplets of slobber flew out and stained his pants as the pinkish tongue wiggled happily in the wind.

"Oh gross!" Jack yelped in horror. "These are premium cords!"

Hiccup rubbed a smooth spot on the dragon's neck, the scales dull and weathered from unknown battles and unnamed skirmishes. "Yeah bud, that's Jack. You can give him a big ol' kiss later," he laughed.

"Oh hell no!" he shouted angrily, still wriggling in the talons that ensnared him. "Wait, no. What the fuck is going on?"

"Well I introduced you to Toothless," Hiccup said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Not that!" he huffed.

"Well if it's not obvious, I came back for you."

"But why?" he demanded an answer, as if the bruises and cut did not suffice.

"Because I can!" Hiccup huffed. "Now we're going to get out of here as fast as we can and wait for-"

"Leave?" he spat out in confusion. "Why would we leave?"

"Because that guy down there is a lot stronger than us," he put emphasis on the phrase "a lot."

"And?"

"And we'd be better off waiting for-"

"No! No more waiting," he said with a burning intensity. "I've got a grudge against this guy and if we don't deal with him right now then he's just going to come back for us and tear up whatever he wants in the process. We can't put this behind us."

Hiccup could feel the weight behind those words. Words that have been hard learned and have been felt in the endlessness of reoccurring nightmares. Words far more important than Hiccup could've ever known at this moment.

Toothless soared up into the clouds, hastily avoiding an opaque beam of light that shredded the air with its deafening noise. He growled, its vicious maw appearing from the wet gums that revealed a polished row of teeth, clearly made for ripping bone and flesh. The wide pupils shrunk to thick dark slits, exposing more of the acid green irises.

Obscured in the clouds, Toothless shot a bolt of blue lightning towards the assassin and flew deeper into the darkness. A bright beam broke the clouds that hid the three a moment ago, not just parting the clouds but vaporizing them.

"If we're going to do this, we need to work together," Hiccup stressed the last word. "We'll both be dead if we don't think this out." He rubbed Toothless's neck consolingly as he tried to formulate a plan and assess the situation. "It seems like his attack can only go in one direction and it takes a certain amount of time for it to charge up before firing."

"How long did it take you to get that?" Jack huffed.

"If we can just distract him..."

Jack's squirming finally came to fruition as he realized that Toothless's grip was finally loose enough to let him escape. "How about, you distract him and I finish him off?" He cocked Hiccup a devious grin and pushed himself out of the dragon's grip.

"Jack!" Hiccup shouted at the top of his lungs. The boy was in a complete free fall, back arching and limbs flying about in a mess. What the fuck was he thinking!

And then...he vanished.

The weathered blue sweater...it fluttered away. Maybe if he didn't blink he would've known what would've happened. Was he one of _those_?

The boy shook himself out of his train of thought when Toothless's ears flattened against his skull and he pushed his wings hard. They dodged another beam but he was painted into a corner. Jack set into motion a plan, or a vague statement by a reckless teenager that barely counted as a plan, and there was no way to pull it back. They had no idea of the sort of dangers that came with it, the risks that were associated, or the kind of coordination required. He had a foggy idea about the power this assassin had but...

The sound of glass being smashed faded up to the sky, a sound loud enough for Hiccup to hear it and to put together the pieces.

"Jack!" he shouted. He pointed down to the Earth and whispered something to Toothless who couldn't help but agree. Massive leathery wings flapped hard and they soared straight down to the pool. Wind whistled around him, striking his face and smacking against his ears. The excess fabric of his sweater flapped frantically while his hold on Toothless was like an iron vice.

Below, the hunter was fired a thick purplish blast along the surface of the pool. He demolished all of the icicles and a significant portion of the battered iceberg that scarred the surface. The wretched hum overpowered the sounds of ice breaking and water sloshing.

"Now!" Hiccup commanded and Toothless let out a three bolts of lightning.

The hunter turned his attention to the sky and let out the same unholy song before unleashing his beam. The misty violet ray struck the first bolt and rained down a thick fog of blueish smoke. He then leapt backwards, unfrozen water beneath him quivering from the shockwaves of the blast, and dodged the second bolt easily. And midair, he brandished the knife he swore to kill them with and sliced the air in front of him. The third bolt quivered for a split second before exploding violently.

The explosion was barely loud enough to mask the sound of ice crackling.

Jack gave a swift upper cut and slender icicles sprang up from the depths of the pool and through a broken portion of the ice. They soared upwards, growing faster and faster, louder and louder, points never dulling.

Then they hit their mark.

Six icicles impaled the man. Three in his torso, one in his shoulder, one in his thigh and one in his bicep. From Hiccup's perspective, it looked like the man fell into an invisible chair several feet above the Earth; a throne that slowly leaked crimson.

The man choked and held onto the knife for dear life. Cold flooded his body and searing hot pain flashed through his chest. Blood filled his lungs with each and every beat of his heart. He could barely breathe now. Far from the pool's chlorinated basin, he was drowning.

Jack narrowed his eyes, stomped the pool deck's wet surface, and watched as a thick slab of ice floated up from the bottom of the water and smashed into the tall glass spirals that crucified his assassin. The tower that kept the man tilted farther and farther until it collided with the Earth. Joyous, triumphant bells of ice smashing and clanging against sun stained concrete rang throughout the tense air.

Hiccup watched from above, half in disbelief and half in relief.

It was over.

The purple hue that underlaid everything started to fade and all the colors of the spectrum slowly emerged out from its exile. Toothless descended onto a patch of concrete that was soaked the least and groaned happily. Hiccup could tell Jack was staring down the freshly made corpse in the distance.

"Jack?" he asked cautiously.

He blinked and said tersely, "Yeah?"

"I'll uhh, I'm going to call my dad."

"I think your dragon is a good substitute for an SUV."

"Well I mean, yeah of course it is because dragons are cooler than cars although-"

Jack flashed him a nasty look.

"But back to the point," he recovered. "My dad knows how to clean up a lot of this stuff. That guy may have cast a really strong concealment spell but that won't change the broken windows, the smashed water fountains, the gutted ceiling, or the half frozen pool when it fades away."

"Go ahead," he said as he stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket. He continued to watch over the body, fearful it might come back to hunt again.

"Uhh, I left my phone in my backpack. It's in the art room."

"Okay."

Hiccup looked to the side, "You know, this concealment spell doesn't wear off quickly. It might be a good idea to get your stuff so we can leave as soon as we can."

Jack gave one last look at the body and convinced himself that he was completely and utterly dead. They had a dragon who clearly stood its own against the assassin. He sighed, "Alright, let's hurry up."

They walked back into the school in complete silence. Hiccup could tell Jack's nerves were frayed and had no interest in talking, if only the same could be said for him. Shoes crunched over broken glass and melting shards of ice while thinning purple light cast over them.

The questions rushed back in, a tide of unanswered thoughts that might make sense of this whole mess. Who was that guy? Why did he go after them? What did he want? What was the point? A million questions and not a single answer. A life in obscurity is a life full of frustration.

Hiccup could feel Jack peel away from his side, the coldness disappearing like a veil lifting over his eyes. His art class wasn't far from here or at least he thought so.

A wall of ice stood proudly and he could feel its chaotic energy pulse underneath the networks of water and air that created the backbone of the shield.

So who exactly was this Jack guy? He was his delivery boy, he wore a blue hoodie, "premium cords" (whatever those were), and had white hair. Also he had the ability to create ice and, judging by the last leg of their battle, teleport? Where did he come from? Why didn't Stoick let him know about Jack? Again, a million questions and no answers.

He pushed into art room and sighed. Everything was still in its place, no one moved, and Mr. Walker's smoldering watch continued to bore holes into every single soul in the classroom. Despite knowing that the hunter's spell froze all living creatures without an ounce of magical prowess, he couldn't shake the feeling that Mr. Walker was watching and waiting for him to show a brief flash of weakness. Holding his breath, he zipped over to his desk, snatched his backpack, and hastily left the room. A weight was lifted off of his shoulders once as he closed the door behind him and he breathed in deeply.

"Oh right," he muttered to himself. He fished out his phone and dialed Stoick's number. "Hey dad, oh you're home? That's nice to, no I didn't hurt myself during gym today. I don't have gym class anymore. Dad, can we just." Now he was just getting flustered. Why he didn't send a text the world would never know.

"Look, a concealment spell was draped over the school and a murderer tried to kill me and another guy so I had to call Toothless but the murderer is dead so can you please just get Gobber here and help clean things up?" he said in a single breath. "Thank you," he mumbled before swiping the screen and ending the call.

Gods, his dad was so hard to deal with sometimes.

Hiccup hoisted the backpack onto his shoulders and silently walked down the torn hallways of his high school. And to think he only had one more year of this to go.

He waved meekly at Jack who was leaning against a few lockers, backpack and binder in tow. "Got everything?"

"More or less," he shrugged before shoving his binder into his bag.

Hiccup caught a look at the binder...The piece of art that served as its cover...It looked really familiar. "Are you taking art with Ms. Hadsi?"

"Uhh, yeah," he said tiredly before zipping up his bag. "Third period."

"And you said your name was Jack."

"Well I haven't corrected you yet," he sighed before threading his arms through the backpack's straps.

"Did you draw a picture of a Keanu Reeves and a strange looking cartoon character by any chance?" Hiccup probed. He didn't want to say _dickbutt_ unless he really had to.

"I uhh, yes?" he said in a troubled tone.

Hiccup laughing was clearly not something that would've helped Jack's confusion. "Well," he said bashfully. "I'm the guy who sent gave you back a doge drawing and the 'there there' drawing," he grinned.

It took a moment but a light flickered behind Jack's eyes. "Oh!" he gasped. "You're the guy! Wow! I can't believe it," he smiled.

And for a moment, the tension, the stress, the anxiety, the exhaustion of a recently fought battle was broken by a memory of pure, radiant joy. The tired, beaten armor that shielded him from everything (good _and_ bad) cracked with his realization. His muscles relaxed for a moment as he realized he was in the presence of someone _he_ wanted to be in.

"You're the guy," Jack chuckled.

"Yeah," Hiccup admitted again. "That's me, the meme guy." Boy, he thought he'd never out himself as "the meme guy" in his life.

"You're a great artist."

"I'm not that good."

"Did you see my Sad Keanu?" Jack refuted. "That thing was atrocious, a crime against humanity."

"Hey don't beat yourself up, I really liked the hands."

Jack barked a laugh, "And what about the proportions?"

"Yeah okay those weren't exactly on point but..."

"Hey you don't need to cover up for the fact it was a piece of shit. I'm not a baby," he cooed.

"Okay then, the torso was too long and the shading looked like poorly done hashmarks," Hiccup jeered.

"And suddenly you're an art critic," he huffed.

Hiccup stuck his tongue out.

"I've been meaning to actually talk to you," Jack said as he pushed open a set of double doors. He slinked out just like a shadow after Hiccup passed him, leading the way back to Toothless and their makeshift battleground.

"Really?" Hiccup said completely astonished.

"I mean, you seem pretty funny and I like funny."

Hiccup looked down at the concrete, trying to hide a blush that radiated up his neck and onto his cheeks. He couldn't mess this up. Please, Gods, give him strength to not be a complete loser and actually impress someone for once in his life.

"We should try to hang out at lunch," Hiccup tried to say smoothly. He didn't want to sound too desperate or too eager, he just needed to play it cool and act like a normal human being.

"Yeah, I don't really do much during lunch so that sounds perfect." A strange look crossed Jack's face before he snorted.

Hiccup could only stare at him in disbelief. Oh no. Was he getting punked? Was this an elaborate ploy by one of those "popular kids" to dangle a whiff of normalcy in front of his face and then embarrass him later for it? Was Jack going to set up a facebook page about this and oh Gods he knew this was too good to be true.

"I just realized that, throughout all of this bullshit, I never learned your name," he said disbelievingly.

"Oh! Yeah!" he tried to pick himself up and banish the horrible visions of being publicly shamed. "Yeah, ain't that weird?" Which one was harder to believe? That they fought off and killed some random guy or that he never gave his own name? If Hiccup put money on it, he'd say the first one.

"Well," Jack said as he dusted his hands onto his pant legs. "I'm Jack," he extended his hand. "Jack Overland."

"Haley," he shook Jack's hand proudly. "Haley Haddock."

"Wait a sec," Jack hummed in thought while a sick look flashed across Hiccup's face. "Aren't you that kid everyone calls-"

"Hiccup!" a gruff and angry voice rang throughout the schoolyard. Hiccup winced in pain as his father quickly confirmed Jack's suspicions. Curse the Gods and their inevitable betrayal.

"Yup," he said in a deflated tone. "That's me."

"So," he wagged an accusatory finger at Hiccup's face. "You're the guy who-"

"Yes that was me," he cut in before Jack could finish his sentence. He knew what he was going to say; it was always the same thing phrased differently for each person.

"I can't believe you did _that_," he whispered half in horror, half in awe.

"Well you better believe it," he muttered as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Everything was going so smoothly! Why couldn't he just catch a break for once?

"Hiccup," a large mountain of a man with a bushy undergrowth of knotted hairs strode towards him. "What in heaven's good name happened here?"

"Well I told you everything in the phone call," he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"And why is there so much ice?" he cried out.

"Well, uhh, sir," Jack added to be respectful (and hope that it would appease this giant). "I made the ice."

Stoick leaned forward and honed his eyes onto the twig of a human. "You did this?"  
The smell of timber, sweat, and mid-priced cologne overwhelmed the white haired boy and it took all of his strength to not cough and gasp for air. "Yes sir," he said while trying not to breathe in.

"Hiccup," Stoick said as he leaned back which meant Jack could now breathe safely. "Take Toothless home."

"Why Dad?" Hiccup asked suspiciously.

Jack's brain short circuited as he tried to put the puny, short, meme guy in the same family tree as Hagrid's close relative over there. Maybe he was adopted?

"Because he hasn't been affected by all of this and you know the rules," his voice dropped to a rather official and pompous tone, "all magic users need to be recognized by the chieftain."

"What do you mean, recognized?" Jack cocked an eyebrow.

"You and I are going to have a little chat."

Jack gulped as Stoick cracked his knuckles in a particularly agonizing wet crunch.

"Oy, Stoick," a gruff but somehow friendlier voice called out in the distance.

"I'll be right there Gobber!" Stoick shouted. "You," he pointed to Jack, "stay here. Hiccup," he now pointed at his son, "go home." He stood there for a moment, searching their faces to see if they fully absorbed the information and decided that they did. "What is it?" he yelled as he turned around and left the two standing stupidly in front of the school.

"So," Hiccup said slowly. "See you tomorrow?"

"Do you think he'll kill me?" he asked fearfully.

"You're small and fast so I think you'll be okay," he joked. It was rare he was on this side of the table and he was going to milk it for everything it was worth.

"Thanks, Hiccup," he seethed. The name was laced with flesh burning, bone melting, steel corroding acid; it only fed Hiccup's ego.

"You're welcome," he chirped. "But don't worry, I'll stick around until your death sentence."

"You are too, too kind."

Stoick marched to a portly, blond man who was far from a group of men gathered at the poolside. He was picking at something in his teeth and gingerly holding something in between his thumb and finger. "Did you find anything?"

"Only this," he said as he held up a hunting knife.

Stoick snatched it out of his hands and grimaced at the magical energy that seeped out of it. It was powerful, almost too powerful. How could something like this escape his detection? First the walls by the forestFirst the walls by the forest and now this! "I can't believe this smuggler got through our detection," he spat. "I want double duty on all the trade routes. That means on the speed trap, in the train station, and on the wharf."

"But Stoick, everyone's busy working for the festival!" Gobber complained. "We're already behind schedule and today's wild goose chase," Stoick flashed him an angry look which caused him to correct himself. "I mean today's expedition put us behind even more! How are we going to meet the mayor's quota if we don't have time to work?"

"You know the rules," Stoick growled.

"Fine, but I'll telling you right now that no one's going to be happy about it."

"When are they ever?" he sighed in resignation.  
Meanwhile, Hiccup and Jack were holding a conversation albeit tiredly at this point. They've been yawning and at one point Toothless, now in the form of a black tabby cat, joined Hiccup.

"I'm still amazed that you weren't expelled for that," Jack said before swinging his arms around and cracking his back.

"I was going to before my dad stepped in," Hiccup admitted. Heavy footsteps could be felt in the distance. "And speak of the devil."

"Alright, Hiccup," Stoick gave the boy a look that silently said, "shoo shoo, go away."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Hiccup smiled before waving Jack off. For the first time in a very long while, Hiccup was actually excited to go to school for once. He would often dread lunch because of his tutoring obligations to Fishlegs and the passing periods where he'd hear the rumors first hand or where his cousin could beat the pulp out of him. But tomorrow, he openly welcomed the empty slots of time because he actually had something to look forward to.  
Jack didn't have the chance to say goodbye when Stoick asked him his first question, surely one of many. "What is your name?"

"Jack Overland," he said bluntly.

"Did you know that you're on my territory?"

"Nope."

"Can't you read the magical signatures around town?" Stoick pried.

"Well yes but-"

"But what," he pressed further.

"I didn't know I was supposed to talk to someone."

"And why not?" he could already tell this was going to be a while.

"Because," Jack flashed a tired grin. "The moon didn't tell me so."

* * *

**A/N: A thousand thank yous to little-miss-randomness17 for telling me about the formatting and missing section at the end! The entire fic is now all here and is also on my tumblr account (sheepishspace) if you prefer to read/like it over there.  
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**Anywho, I'm going to _try really hard _to keep this story going forward (I have a few ideas for another two or three chapters) but things are really hectic for me at the moment. There is an update in the future but it won't be in the near future unfortunately.  
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**If you have any thoughts or questions please feel free to send me a PM or review below! Thanks for reading :3**


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